Moonlight
by ever6
Summary: Dean stops to help another hunter, getting caught up in a mystery of her own.
1. Chapter 1

Moonlight

Chapter 1

Moonlight glinted off his hair, his face lost in shadow as he turned my direction. Head lowered, his voice like gravel, he finally spoke. "Sorry. I usually …don't kill…people."

"Stop. We'd be dead if you hadn't." I had to look away. I could feel the tension still stacked up in him, his spidey senses on high alert and ready to uncoil at the slightest provocation. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to him, careful to touch his arm lightly. Not expecting it, he jerked away, grunting at the pain the sudden movement caused.

I looked around to get my bearings again, and headed for what I hoped was the path. Note to self: Do not touch highly volatile men when they're still amped from a fight, no matter how pathetic they look. It was just the moonlight that made him look like he needed mothered. Not that this was a situation I'd have to handle on a frequent basis, but a good note to store away for future reference nonetheless. "Come on." When I came through the brush onto the path, I heard him following. Very faintly. Knowing I wouldn't see him in the dark shadows of the trees here I turned to check his progress anyway. Surprised that he was close behind; I picked up the pace toward the cabin. His volume didn't equal distance; it was all about stealth. He moved like a cat naturally after years of sneaking up on ugliness, which is why I barely heard him. A few minutes walk took us around a bend then off to the left was tonight's shelter. There was nothing but a few trees and a field between the cabin and us so my perimeter check would be short. "I'll get the back."

"I can – "

"Shut up. I'll check the back." I was in no mood for macho shit. Walking to the far front corner, I pulled my gun from the waistband of my jeans at my back. I'd never gotten comfortable with it there; always afraid I'd blow half my ass off someday by mistake. Someday hadn't come yet, and I still had too much ass. Placing my back against the front wall, I rolled my body to the left and around the corner, gun drawn. A quick scan showed no bad guys, so I repeated the move around to the back of the place and stood staring at a gravel driveway and a fence guarding a steep drop-off to the river below, running parallel to the length of the cabin. "Nice." I said under my breath. I walked back to the front and found Dean picking the door lock. "It's clear. Not much should be able to join us from the back of the place. And you might have waited to see if it was clear before you barged in."

He continued working the lock. "Define 'not much'."

"Nothing human." I bit my tongue on the rest of my response. He'd had a rough day. The lock gave and the door swung open. He pulled his gun. I let him do the manly thing this time and bust in first while I stood by the doorway for backup.

"It's good." He sounded tired.

I went in and it WAS good. Pale light showed a rough but tidy cabin, equipped with a few pieces of surprisingly nice furniture, fireplace, and small kitchen in one corner. And a bed. A soft fluffy big bed.

We looked at each other.

"Oh yeah. There's gonna be a fight over that." I informed him.

His expression didn't change. Actually his expression hadn't changed since I met him yesterday. Except sometimes he clenched his jaw.

Seeing a door in the dim light at the far end of the room, I motioned toward it with my gun. He nodded and quickly crossed a huge braided rug, then jerked the door open, disappearing into the gloom. He reappeared immediately, indicating with a slight motion of his head that I should go look.

"Whoa." I was standing in a bathroom that took up roughly a quarter of the original one-room cabin. After opening the blind on the window, I verified that I was indeed looking at a deep oversized tub with a hand shower attached. There was the usual bathroom stuff like toilet and sink too, but who cares. If there was bubble bath to be had in here, I was never leaving this place.

He sat down carefully at the small dining table after flicking on a light. "First aid kit?"

I crossed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, scanning the contents. "Hell yeah there is." After grabbing two beers I opened them and set one in front of him, taking mine to the counter and opening cabinets. "And here's some medical stuff, too."

An understatement. An oversized plastic bin filled with enough equipment to start our own ER had been shoved under the sink. I drug it out and then sat down at the table.

He'd finished half of his beer. "Thanks."

"Is that taking the edge off?" From the looks of him I doubted it. He had dirt and blood everywhere and his shirt was half torn off of him. It had been a vicious fight, and I suspected that he was hurting worse than he was letting on.

"Little bit." He made a brief gesture around the room with his beer.

"Hunter's refuge. Ellen told me about it when she heard I'd be in this area. I guess any hunter can use it; the only rule is that you leave it like you found it." I answered him before he asked the next question. "Nobody knows who owns it or stocks it. Get cleaned up and we'll see what needs done to you." I gestured toward the bathroom. He drained the bottle, picked up the duffel bag he'd dropped by the door and slowly headed for the big magic tub, closing the door behind him.

I was heating up a big can of beef stew when I felt him staring at my back. Jesus, I hoped it was him. I'd found a handy economy sized bag of rock salt in the little closet and poured a line around the room for good measure. "Hungry?"

"Famished." His voice was soft.

I turned and found him staring at me with his head slightly cocked to one side, questions in his eyes. Big eyes. Green? Grey? Pretty. I shook my head to dislodge that line of thought. "What?"

"Lady, who ARE you?"

"Are you concussing? We met yesterday, dumbass." I turned back to the stove and killed the burner, then poured the stew into two bowls.

"You're Six. That's all I know." He paused, obviously waiting for an answer, then shrugged when he didn't get one. "I'll let the name-calling thing slide since you made dinner and I'm starving." After grabbing another beer and setting it on the table he kneeled and started digging through the bin of medical supplies.

I put the bowls on the table and sat down. He had his back to me and the white t-shirt he had on was stretched tight due to his position. I could see a bloom of red near his lower back. It seemed to be growing. "You're bleeding. You have any other serious stuff? You feelin' faint or anything? That guy was crazy with the knives."

"Yeah, just my luck the dude was possessed by an evil friggin' ninja. Why can't they ever be possessed by-?"

"Bunny rabbits?" I cut in. "Great-Aunt Hilda? Happy sweet things have no need to possess a human body."

"Smartass." He sat back, still on his knees. "I got a slice that probably needs stitches. I think I'm just hungry."

The stain on his back was still growing. I was becoming increasingly worried. "How about you sit in the chair and I'll look for the stuff to sew you up with?" I got on my knees beside him and he grabbed my shoulder sluggishly.

"No offense, but I don't feel real…"

He slumped toward me and I started to stand, trying to catch him, but greatly misjudged his dead weight. He knocked me over and the back of my head connected with the floor in a most painful way. When the ache subsided enough for coherent thought I realized Dean was on top of me, his shoulder jammed under my left boob, face in my stomach. I was thinking it could be worse, after all, and if I shifted a little to get the pressure off my chest, like THAT, It might even be a bit enjoyable. Physical contact happened rarely in this business, I rationalized, and - OW! One of my knees, twisted under his weight, was making its discomfort known. Payback for trying to enjoy the situation, I was sure. I was also sure I was going straight to hell. Probably on a bullet train. It's just not right to like the feel of an unconscious man on top of you. Heaving a sigh, I straightened my leg and carefully inched out from under him, lowering his face to the floor gently. After a run to the bathroom for towels, I pulled up his shirt and surveyed the damage. The still bleeding wound was deep, straight and fairly long, no doubt a near miss to a vital organ the ninja had planned to slash into halves. I hoped it was a near miss, anyway. I could stitch anything, but repairing guts was way beyond my capabilities. We were pretty far from a hospital and for that matter, a vehicle. I folded a towel and applied pressure to the area, letting my gaze wander up the rest of him. He had several nicks and cuts, and bruises were starting to show all over the place, but there was nothing else that needed more than a band-aid. I lightly ran my finger over a long-healed scar that cut across his shoulder blade. I'd heard he started young; I guess this was evidence that some of the talk was true. I dug in the bin and came up with a package of needles, antibacterial soap, antiseptic, and suture thread, then ran some hot water into a pan. After cleaning out his wound, I carefully stitched it up and taped a gauze pad over it, then rolled him onto his back.

Blood had soaked through the front of his shirt from a jagged cut in his side, below the ribcage. I cleaned and stitched it quickly, then decided it would be wise to cut his shirt off him so I could examine his upper arms and shoulders. I told myself sternly as I cut that it was only to make sure he had no other serious injuries and not at all for my viewing pleasure. I almost believed myself.

The shirt came off and I steadfastly searched for injuries while mouthing "Holy Shit" to myself. He was beautiful, and I was totally ok with being a chauvinistic pig. I was raised by men, after all.

I forced myself to look away from the pretty and grabbed a pillow off the bed, maneuvering it under his head. I drug the comforter off next and covered him with it, kneeling to feel his forehead.

I went back to the table and ate my lukewarm stew, keeping an eye on him. There was nothing else I could do for him now. I was pretty sure he'd passed out from pain and exhaustion, not blood loss. He might have a cracked rib or five, judging from the way he'd walked and the shallow breathing he'd been doing. Hopefully he'd wake up soon.

I tried my cell phone again, but there was no signal, just like the last 35 times I'd tried it. You never know. Maybe the moon would be in the perfect spot to bounce transmissions off a satellite or perhaps Jupiter so a signal would fall directly over the cabin. Or something. I wasn't picky at this point.


	2. Chapter 2

Moonlight 2

I lunged forward just out of the grasp of its long sharp talons and ran as hard as I could through the murky forest trying to gain a small lead. Stumbling in the darkness and cussing under my breath, I heard its growling and panting fade behind me and I abruptly dove to the left into the underbrush, calculating its distance as far enough behind to not see or hear my move. Suddenly I was sliding across a slick mat of dead leaves, small shrubs and overgrowth reaching out of the gloom to snag in my hair and rip into my flesh. An abrupt stop against a stone wall drew a grunt from me as I felt something in my wrist snap. To my horror I could hear the creature coming straight for me at full speed. Apparently I'd miscalculated. Ignoring the pain, I reached for my gun and scrambled up to my feet. No gun! I took half a second to look around frantically, then hurdled the low stone barrier and landed in a run while I grabbed for my knife. It was there! I pulled it and the blade, glittering in the moonlight, immediately fell to the earth as searing pain shot through my hand and halfway up my arm. Shit!! Wrong hand!! Way beyond terrified now, I slid to a halt and did a 180 just as a bunch of needle-like teeth and talons preceded a pair of glowing red eyes over the fence at me. I ducked but it was too late and I shrieked as my chest was punctured and it's weight knocked me back –

Hyperventilating, I turned and brought my .357 up in one smooth motion to its head and saw that I was staring down the barrel of a gun. I somehow managed not to scream or pee my pants but was pretty sure passing out was still an option.

"HEY! DROP IT!" Something very surprised shouted at me. Somewhere in my fog of panic I thought I knew the voice.

"YOU Drop It!!" I focused past the very large black hole that was positioned approximately two inches in front of my right eye and recognized Dean at the same time he realized who I was. "WHAT THE HELL...?"

"Son of a BITCH!" He abruptly lowered his weapon and aimed it at the floor. " Don't DO THAT!"

"Are you KIDDING me?!!!" I swapped out his forehead for his right ear lobe in my sights, massively pissed off and still breathing heavily from my nightmare. "YOU pulled on me FIRST!!"

He began looking a bit alarmed and his voice lowered to a soothing tone. He moved very slowly and never took his eyes off me. "Okay now. Look. I'm putting the gun right here on the nightstand. How about we both do that? Just a little misunderstanding there." He watched me hopefully.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Still angry here. Explanation?"

His voice rose again. "I don't know! You started yelling, it woke me up, and I drew on you!" He tried moving out of my sights, but I followed his ear. "I'm Sorry! Your voice wasn't familiar!" He shrugged his shoulders.

I lowered my gun, finally realizing I'd had pretty much the same reaction to his presence. "I'm sorry too. I thought you were-" I noticed that we were both in the bed and I looked back up at him quickly, my blood pressure shooting for the ceiling again.

"Aw no." He quickly put his palm over my gun hand and shook his head. "Relax. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not THAT guy. I'm more into women that are interested. And awake is good too."

A rush of guilt flared as my mind jumped back to him falling unconscious on me, and I took a thorough look around. He'd slept on top of all the covers after throwing the comforter back on the bed and over me. Very sweet. I was still in my clothes and he'd put on another t-shirt. "Oh." I took a deep breath and lay back against the pillows, offering him the butt of my gun.

He placed it carefully on the nightstand next to his. "We good now?" He eyed me, distrusting.

I nodded.

"You always this much fun in the morning?" He looked at me sideways.

I leveled a stare at him. "You should catch me in a BAD mood sometime."

"I'll pass." He raised his eyebrows in dismay at the idea and looked away. "So. Nightmare? Vision?"

I shuddered at the thought of it actually happening. "Nightmare. I hope."

He relaxed back onto the bed, holding his side and wincing a little. "I get 'em too sometimes. Sammy gets the visions."

I nodded, thinking about some stories I'd been told. "Heard about that. How do you feel?"

"Like the Thing and Wolverine took turns kicking my ass. Just what have you heard?"

"That Sam had death visions." I wanted to ask a million questions, but this wasn't the time.

"And what do they say about me?"

"Depends who's talking."

"Anything good?" He didn't really seem to care.

I nodded truthfully; immediately thinking of the occult store owner who'd told me if he'd shopped any longer all of her candles would have melted.

"Surprising," He muttered. "So hey. I have to know. When I passed out? Did I go down with any dignity at all, or was it all…?" He paused, fluttering his hands around, searching for a word.

"Completely wussifiable." I grinned at him. "I've never seen a man embarrass himself that bad before."

He gave me a worried half-smile, not sure if I was serious. "You're kidding, right?"

I'd planned to launch into a dramatic interpretation of a corseted lady of the 1700's falling over with the back of a hand to the forehead and a lot of pretend fan waving but I got sucked into those eyes and couldn't do it. Jeez. This could be a problem. "Yes. You actually went down in such a manly fashion that you took me with you and almost knocked me out. Feel better?"

"Yeah…… I mean no!" He looked up with genuine concern. "Did I really? Sorry 'bout that." He looked like he wanted to say more for a couple of seconds, then finally spit it out. "You should smile more often. You're - It's – pretty."

SO not what I expected. "Um. Thanks…" We had a semi-awkward moment while I frantically struggled to remember what we'd been talking about. "Oh. It wasn't your fault. When we fell I mean. I thought I could catch you. Turns out I'm not Wonder Woman after all." I shrugged.

"Aaand while we're on that subject, just who are you, exactly? I never heard of any female hunters. Cop?" He looked down at his side, his t-shirt covering the stitches I'd put in him. "Doctor? Sydney Bristow?"

"Isn't Jo out hunting now?" I watched as an expression passed over his face; one I couldn't identify.

"Don't know." He left it at that. "We were talking about you."

"Yeah, ok, me." I sighed. "My family is full of hunters. Bounty hunters and spook hunters. I'm the only girl, and my brothers raised me. Instead of dolls and ballet lessons I grew up with weapons and martial arts training."

"Really." Another unreadable expression flashed in his eyes. "Where were your parents, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Mom couldn't deal and bailed when I was 4, and Dad was always on a hunt. Did you see any bubble bath in there last night?" I motioned to the room next door, trying to change the subject.

"Wasn't exactly lookin' for it. And your name? Are you Cylon or friend of Punky?"

And then he smiled full on, leaning toward me, interested.

Now this was the first time I'd seen THAT since I met him. After 24 hours plus of Mr. Grimly McStoneface I was now lying - in bed (!) - next to Hotness Personified. Capital H, Capital P. This, combined with his sincere interest, got me enormously flustered. So I did what I do best in these situations. Run. "Gosh, look at the time. I need to go out and try to find a signal for the phone, you probably want to try Sam, I need to find a ride, but I HAVE to make use of that tub first; a girl's gotta feel pretty ya know, well, maybe you don't, considering you're not..." I was off the bed and moving as I yammered, smoothing my hair down.

"I'm gonna get it out of you." He continued with the blinding smiling.

"It's just a name. Get over it, already." I grabbed my backpack and headed for the bathroom. Quickly.

"Good to see you're not bitchy today."

I came to a screeching halt. "If I were a man you'd be telling me I was confident and in charge yesterday," I turned back to coolly respond. "And I'M glad you're not a DICK today." I was no longer flustered. I knew how to play this game.

He laughed. "Ask Sam. I'd still call you a bitch. And I'd add bossy."

"Bossy, in charge, whatever. Sounds like you're scared of a woman that isn't helpless."

He shook his head. " 'Scared' is NOT the word I'd put there." He looked me over appraisingly. "All I'm saying is I'm used to being part of a team."

Great. I was just getting comfortable and he'd thrown me a curve. Plus he'd made his point quite gently, leaving me nowhere to go with the argument. Interesting. "Duly noted. You might have just said that to start with, though."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't have been as much fun."

"Ass." The smirk he was wearing infuriated me, so I grabbed the closest thing I could find and chucked it at him, scoring a direct hit on the chest, left-hand side. Turns out it was a small votive candle. I silently wished it luck.

"Hey! I'm already injured!" He yelled at me, laughing, then whipped it back at me.

I caught it easily and smiled at him. "So this is the big rough badass Dean Winchester I've heard so much about? Cryin' about a girl throwin' candles at him?"

"When they have an arm like that, yes!" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Someone said I'm a badass, huh? Bad. Ass." He made some mean faces. "Scare ya?"

I rolled my eyes at him, speaking dryly. "I live in fear." And I escaped into the bathroom.

Heaven. Pure heaven. I blew some bubbles around on the surface of the hot water directly in front of me. Submerged up to my chin in the wonderfully huge magic bathtub, I was determined to stay here until I was completely pruney and in danger of dissolving. Living this life; staying in cheap motels, it would be approximately never until I had a chance to luxuriate in a tub like this again. All my muscle aches and nerve endings were soothed, I was squeaky clean from head to toe, and I tried imagining that I was a normal girl who, after my bath, would get dressed in something besides jeans and a t-shirt, and looking incredibly hot, would go meet her boyfriend at the mall. No. Strike the mall. I hated shopping. I would meet my imaginary boyfriend at a nice restaurant for dinner and some drinks……… I was making some incredibly witty remark, dazzling him with my flirty sophistication in my daydream when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a mist forming in the far corner of the bathroom. I heaved a sigh of disgust mixed with resignation as I got to my feet in the tub and reached into the backpack I'd left on the shelf next to it. So much for fantasy land. My hand felt the sawed-off shotgun; I grabbed it and stood up, taking quick aim, waiting to see what would materialize. When it did I was shocked. Shoving down a surge of paralyzing terror I blasted it before it could fully form. I hadn't had a chance to even lower the weapon when the door flew open and Dean ran in.

"You alright?! What happened?!" He took in the fact that I naked, wet, and holding a shotgun and abruptly turned his back to me. "Uuuhhh. Sorry! I was – "

My fear was fading and I closed my eyes in extreme embarrassment, wishing I was anywhere but here. Could this day get any better? "It's gone. I'll be out in a minute."

He nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Moonlight 3

When I came out of the bathroom he wasn't in the cabin. Awkwardness delayed, halleluiah. A glance out the window showed Dean leaning on the fence out back, staring down at the river. I peeled the plastic packaging off of a blueberry muffin and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. Did I really want to put this off? I thought about it while I ate. I had a problem now. Could I trust him? He was a hunter after all. He and Sam were talked about like they were Batman and Robin by most. Supposed to be above average hunters with a wealth of information thanks to their father. The women they'd encountered said Sam was an intelligent, sensitive, sweetheart - the hot guy you'd take home to mama; Dean was usually all business, street smart, direct and to the point, the hard-edged muscle of the pair. He supposedly could also turn on the charm to such a degree you'd give him – well, whatever he wanted. Most definitely the bad boy mama warned you about.

These women were "civilians", with no idea how life was for a hunter. I knew from my brothers' and my own experience that it was not a good idea to get involved with anyone, so I dismissed the 'bad boy' tagging of Dean. The occasional one or two-night stand was more of a necessity than the sign of a deliberate heartbreaking jerk. My brother Ian had once told me that if he grew to care about a girl in the short time he was in her city on a hunt, he would weigh his depth of feeling against the inevitable sadness of leaving to decide if he should sleep with her. And he was always honest with them about not sticking around. I was not, however, completely stupid about the ways of men. My brother Eli, now, he was just all about booty. Whenever and wherever, it was like a game to him. I suspected he was keeping score. Most men I'd encountered fell somewhere between those two examples, so I was willing to give Dean the benefit of the doubt.

Hold up. Whoa now. I smacked myself in the forehead. What did this have to do with my problem? Absolutely nothing, that's what. There would be no hooking up between us. Period. Whether or not I should trust him and ask for help was all I needed to decide here. Bottom line – the Delicious Duo could probably help. I didn't have to tell them EVERYthing. I threw away my wrapper and went outside to get this over with.

"Hey."

He looked over at me as I reluctantly joined him at the fence. "How long have you been doing this?"

His face had no expression. Which I guess was better than a smirk. "Doing what? Hunting?" I had no idea where this was going.

He nodded.

"I went on my first bounty hunt when I was 8. I didn't participate usually, other than being bait, or an extra gun if things went bad. Most criminals don't expect a little girl to be carrying concealed. First spook hunt when I was 11. Why?"

He looked back down to the river. "I bet you've blasted a thousand of those things by now. What was it about this one that had you shaking and looking all freaked out like that?"

Well damn. I had to give him some credit here. Who'd have thought he'd actually looked at my face? "That's a coincidence. I was just about to see if you'd do me a favor concerning that."

He tried hard to suppress it, but a smile broke through his serious face. "If it has to do with forgetting I saw you naked? No chance. That fine image is burned into my brain."

I felt my cheeks and neck begin to burn with embarrassment. I was sure I'd be flaming red from head to toe in a minute. "God! You're such an jackass!" I walked away, wondering just why I thought I could ask him for help. "Never mind!" I decided to walk to a higher location to see if I could find a signal for the phone. Screw Dean. I didn't care if he needed to call Sam or not. He was on his own. I felt his hand on my shoulder and considered shooting him. I'd just have to patch his ass back up again, so I let it go.

"I'm sorry. Really."

I kept walking.

"Oh c'mon Six. I thought the shy thing was an act. Give me a break."

I whirled around, surprising him. He backed up a step. "Why would you think I was pretending to be shy?! How did that stupid idea even get in your head? If you think I'm one of those easy ride sluts you're obviously used to, you better think again." I turned and continued walking.

He somehow managed to get in front of me, walking backwards. "Just hang on, okay? That isn't what I think at all!" He stopped, holding his hands up in front of him.

He seemed relatively serious, so I decided not to knock him down and walk over him. I cocked my head to the side and stared at him expectantly.

He searched for words. "You're such a – a hard ass about everything. You tried to exorcise that ninja by yourself. You didn't flinch when I had a gun in your face! It's kind of a stretch to think of you as shy about anything, especially when you look…" His eyes lowered to the ground. " … that good."

He appeared very uncomfortable, and I was loving it. I could believe his point of view, and he obviously wasn't used to explaining himself. "Ok."

Relief showed on his face. "So what's the favor?"

"First. You should be back in bed. I put a zillion stitches in you last night, and I'm gonna be mad if you pull them out and I have to redo it all."

He gave an impatient snort. "I'm fine. We need to go find a signal. We can talk on the way."

"Dean? Please go back to the cabin and lie down? Give yourself a chance to heal. It's my fault you got hurt and I'd like to make sure you get better." I put my hands on my hips. "That was my best non-bossy speech. You better be appreciating it. I'M used to working alone."

That got a smile out of him. "Not bad." He thought for a minute. "All right. I do feel pretty crappy."

We headed toward the cabin slowly. "Think you have ribs broken?"

"Naw, just bruised."

"That's good." A replay of Dean and the possessed evil ninja guy whirling around in an intricate, bloody dance flashed in my head, complete with sounds of fists and feet hitting heavily on flesh and knives clanging together. "I can't believe you only got stuck twice."

"Yeah. Cuz I'm just a lucky guy." His tone was dry.

I laughed. "You should be dead."

He muttered something under his breath. All I caught was "Sooner than…………..."

"What?"

"Nothing. What happened in the bathroom?" He stopped for a second, grabbing his side.

I slid an arm around him, careful of his injuries, and he dropped his arm over my shoulders, leaning on me as we walked. "Does Sam still have visions now that the yellow-eyed demon is gone?"

He jerked to a halt. "What do you know about that?"

"C'mon. Everyone knows Sam was the last man standing in the demon's plan. You guys took down the demon and shut the doors before hell was empty. I just wondered if he still has visions. Keep goin'. I can't carry you in if you pass out."

He started walking again. "That's what you heard?" He gave a short sarcastic laugh. "Anything else?"

"No. Is there more?"

He closed his eyes for a second as if in pain, then opened them again. "It doesn't matter. He hasn't had any since then. But it wasn't that long ago, so who knows. He's been wondering about it himself. Why?"

"You know the nightmare I had this morning? I've had it before a bunch of times. Each time the dream is a little bit longer, and a little bit scarier. I'm running through some woods in the dark and there's something after me. Some stuff happens, blah, blah, blah, but this time the thing gets me. I saw it for the first time and it got me." I involuntarily shivered in the sunshine, and Dean pulled me a little closer to him. "The thing in the bathroom was that thing. My dream thing."

"Is this the first time that's happened?"

We reached the cabin and went in. "Yes."

"I see why you were freaked." He kicked his boots off and collapsed on the bed. "Would you mind bringing my duffel bag over?"

I grabbed it and dropped it on the bed next to him. "Did you eat?"

"No." He was digging through the bag, pulling out books and folders. "I'll grab something in a while."

I went to the kitchen and got some frozen sandwiches, a bag of chips, and a couple of bottles of water, put them on a tray and parked it on the night stand next to him.

He looked up from his books, surprised. "Thanks."

"The sandwiches should defrost pretty quickly. I'm gonna head out. You want me to call Sam and let him know where you are?"

He just looked at me for a moment. "Look. It wasn't your fault that I got hurt. I didn't have to stop and help - I wanted to. My decision. You don't need to feel like you have to wait on me or anything." He gestured to the tray.

I smiled. "You don't know me very well, do you? I don't ever feel like I HAVE to do anything. Maybe I'm just a nice person, helping out an injured guy. I've had a lot of practice with my brothers, you know. It's what I do."

"Well in that case, bring it." He grinned at me. "I'm not used to it, but I could get that way pretty damned quick."

"Just don't start thinking of me as your slave, cuz that's not what this is about."

"Deal." He gestured to the books. "I'll see if I can find anything in here while you're gone. What did it look like?"

"A zillion teeth like big needles, talons about 5 inches long, red glowing eyes, and that's about all I remember before the fright coma kicked in."

"That should be enough to start with." He flipped his phone at me. "Take that with you. Just hit 1, that's Sammy. Get him up to speed on what happened, describe this thing to him, and tell him I asked if he could help us. We'll figure this out."

"Thank you." I got in my backpack and strapped on my knife, making sure my gun was secure in the waistband of my jeans at my back. I took out a couple of my books and looked at him questioningly.

He motioned me to bring them over. When I got to the bed, he pulled a small semi-automatic in a shoulder holster out of his bag and handed it to me. "You've used one of these before?"

"Of course. I prefer a revolver."

"Take it with you." He looked very serious.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Who's bossy now?"

That got me a half-smile. "Please take it?"

"I'm just going up the hill, Dean."

He made an exasperated noise. "And anything could be out there. Trust me, a lot of bad things make their home in the woods and hills."

"Okay, okay. How does this thingy work?" I looked at the holster suspiciously.

He held it up against his own side in the correct position.

I took it from him and put it on and he reached up to smooth one of the straps for me. As he drew his hand away it lightly brushed the side of my breast. Things immediately got warm all over inside me and it became necessary to inhale deeply and bite my lip. I was standing in front of him as he sat on the side of the bed, and I didn't think he'd done it on purpose, it was just a tricky reach for him. He was however, watching to see how I'd react.

"Sorry." His voice was soft and rough. "You're not gonna hit me are you?"

"No." I was definitely thinking about ripping his clothes off, though, stitches be damned. Our eyes were locked, and I guess he could see what I was thinking, because he smiled. Not obnoxiously, not like he'd won this round, but just a really soft smile that said he was in my head and felt the exact same way. His eyes clouded over suddenly and I came to my senses and we both looked away. I took a step back and he grabbed a book. "I'd better get going."

"Yeah. Be careful."

I turned and headed for the door. I felt his eyes on me until I was outside.

So THIS is what self-imposed exile from men got me. I was stomping up the hillside, replaying that moment between us over and over again. I was so – freaking without – that the slightest touch from him sent me into an orgasmic tailspin. Not that I was a nympho or anything, but that HAD to be the reason for such a strong reaction to such a small light touch. It couldn't possibly be because he was smokin' hot, had muscles everywhere, had a genuine sweet side, was a living breathing badass like I'd never seen before, and most of all, was a hunter who understood my life. Had I subconsciously been letting down my guard, thinking maybe he was someone a relationship would work with because he was a hunter? Well, if I was, I was pretty stupid, because that other thing was always there - my unknown future.

And what the hell was up with him? We'd been drowning in each other's eyes, then wham! He went cold and looked away. Was there someone in his life? Jo? I'd heard they had a huge fight, Jo wanted nothing to do with him, and she'd left her mama's place to go hunt. Couldn't be her. I pulled out my phone and looked at it again, and amazingly enough, I had 5 bars showing. Good. I didn't want to think about Dean Winchester for another second.


	4. Chapter 4

Moonlight 4

I couldn't reach any of my contacts, so I left messages on Ian and Eli's voice mails. Hopefully one of them was relatively near by. Sam answered on the first ring, obviously worried since he hadn't heard from his brother in over a day. I explained what happened, told him where we were, and then passed on Dean's request for him to help us with my problem. We spoke at length about some of his various experiences, and he told me how he and his brother had dealt with them. We were soon trading hunting stories, and by the time we hung up I felt much better about asking the Winchester's for help. I'd been sure I was a lost cause ever since that thing had wandered out of my dreams and into the bathroom, but Sammy had given me hope. Just talking to someone that knew my experience calmed me considerably.

Scouting around from my higher vantage point, I discovered there was a trail down below along side the river. I was guessing, but it looked like it could run back to the road in one direction, and to the cabin in the other. I made my way downhill through the brush and went to investigate.

...I made it back to the cabin quite a while later, finding Dean asleep with a book on his chest and others scattered around him on the bed. The sun would be going down soon. There was a chill in the air, so I brought in some wood for the fireplace. I poured a line of salt all around the bathroom, then went outside and added a line completely around the cabin for good measure. No stupid spook was gonna ruin MY magic bathtub time ever again.

After my bath, I'd dressed, combed out my long hair, and coaxed a fire out the wood in the fireplace. I was curled up on the couch, staring dreamily into the flames when Dean sat down next to me. "Hi there." I looked over at him.

"Hey. Why didn't you wake me up?"

I just smiled. "I was throwing wood around in here. I'm guessing a Transformer could have stepped on your head and it wouldn't have woke you up. You needed the rest."

He got up and stretched, wincing a little, then grabbed a bottle of water and sat back down next to me. "I guess. How's Sammy?" He took the cap off and offered it to me.

I shook my head. "He's completely adorable. We talked for quite a while."

Dean rolled his eyes at me. "You fallin' for my little brother? You haven't even seen him yet. He's not half as good-lookin' as me."

I returned the eye roll. "Looks aren't everything. But no, sadly enough, I think he's too young for me."

"Huh? You look his age." He seemed genuinely confused.

"You're sweet, but I'm probably older than you." I watched for his reaction a little too carefully. I'd already had this talk with myself. NO hooking up! It wasn't fair to anybody.

He shrugged. "Age isn't everything, either." He took a long pull off the water.

Good answer. But it didn't matter. "Oh! He had a message for you. He said to tell you... he's very glad to help, and that you should get real and take care of yourself better. I told him you kept trying to pull your stitches out." I'd barely started the last sentence and his eyes widened. Suddenly he was choking on the water.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn. Went down the wrong pipe. Now what did Sam say? Exactly?"

I gazed at him suspiciously. "Code word you weren't expecting?"

"What? No. What are you talking about? I just didn't hear you. What'd Sammy say again?"

I repeated myself and watched closely. He managed to keep his expression the same for a second, but then had to look away. "That Sam…"

"What's goin' on, Dean?"

"Nothin'… Shit. All right. There was a code word. Sam went on ahead to do some research in the next town because we're working a case, kind of a big one. I don't want to go into detail, but he just told me - through you - that he was onto something big. Did he say when he might be done?"

"Two or three more days. He said that would give you time to settle in and get well."

His eyebrows shot up in the air and his eyes went all big again. He cleared his throat. "Okay."

I was sure Sam had dropped another code in there. He knew Dean would, of course, ask how long the research would take him in town. I was familiar with the whole code word thing, having teamed up with my brothers on occasion. Sometimes you just didn't need anyone else knowing what you were up to. Dean's reaction just seemed a bit off to me. I reminded myself I was like Mulder, looking for conspiracy theories everywhere and decided it was none of my business. Move on, girl. "Let me take a look at your stitches and make sure everything's ok."

He obligingly laid back and lifted his shirt for me. "How about you? Did you find a ride?"

I pulled the tape holding the gauze pad from his skin and looked underneath, moving close to see in the dying light from outside. "No. Nobody would answer. It was kinda weird." His stitches looked good, with no indication of infection. "Can you stand up so I can see the one in your back?"

He stood with his back to me and raised his shirt. "Am I gonna make it, Doc?"

This wound looked fine too. "As long you stay down. Let me put some fresh bandages on." I went to the bin and got some out, along with the tape. "You're not dyin' on my watch."

He smiled. "So you've sewn up your brothers? Is that why you know how to do that stuff?"

I nodded. "Dad taught me."

"Are you the baby, then?"

I nodded again, finishing up his back. We both sat back down on the couch.

"How many brothers?"

"Four living. Ian, Eli, Jake, and Jesse. William died about 8 months ago." It still hurt enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"I'm sorry. Was he on a hunt?" Dean's voice was soft.

I shook my head. "Well. Kind of. Iraq. Jake's still there."

He was silent for a minute. "My – Dad… died not long ago." He struggled to get the words out.

I immediately felt terrible for saying anything about Will. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." I laid a hand on his arm.

"It's ok. Sam says I never dealt with it." He put his hand over mine as he stared into the fire. "It wasn't so hard to say this time. I think it helps that we - saw him again."

I turned to him, surprised. "Did you seriously? When? I mean – you don't have to tell me." I felt like I was invading his privacy.

He paused for a full minute. "It was when the whole thing went down with the yellow-eyed demon. See, when Dad died, the demon – well, he ended up in hell. Dad, I mean... He got out that night, before we got the doors shut again. He was there, and he was so happy and proud of Sammy and me………He just smiled, then there was all this white light and he disappeared." He was quiet, remembering.

"Dean, that's so incredible! To have the privilege of seeing him go into the light - to just SEE him one more time! Everyone wishes for that when they lose someone they love." I was genuinely thrilled for him.

"I never thought about it like that before." He gave me a sad smile. "Yeah. It was… good."

I needed to change the subject. "When did you start hunting? Were you really young, too?"

He nodded. "Dad had me shooting when I was 4, I think. I guess we both were really weird kids, huh?"

"Totally abnormal. But I didn't know it at the time. Do you feel like you grew up too fast?"

He nodded.

We peppered each with questions, laughed and sympathized with each other about our crazy times growing up. Hiding the truth from kids and teachers at school, the incredible burden of knowing what we knew and the feelings of being such an outcast in the normal world……

………I woke up to see sunshine streaming through the window, making bright square patterns on the rug. The angle of light told me it was still early morning. The fire was out, but embers were still glowing hot in the fireplace. I was incredibly comfortable and warm under the bedspread. I stayed very still, wanting to enjoy the rare feeling and savor the knowledge that I didn't have to get up and race off anywhere on a desperate hunt for a lead in some case I was working. The only case I had right now was my own.

We'd talked all night. I remembered Dean waking me and telling me to get to bed when the sun was just beginning to rise. I'd stumbled over here; he'd pulled the covers up over me and padded back to the couch. I'd gone to sleep after watching him sit and stare into the flames for a minute or two, yellow firelight flickering across his face. He wasn't there now, and the slow, sleepy realization of why I was so comfortable and warm drifted over me. I looked down and saw that his arm was around my waist, the other slid under my neck, his hard chest pressed against my back as we spooned. A little voice in the back of my mind was screaming "Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!" but the rest of my brain overpowered it and told it to shut the HELL up. I just wanted to stay right here, warm and cozy next to this man for as long as possible. A sigh escaped me as I faced the fact that I had it pretty bad for him. I was supposed to be able to control these things, damn it. I understood the hilarity of that as soon the thought popped into my head. Even a life of strategy and gathering clues, keeping your poker face on when danger was near, and my own annoying habit of over thinking everything - it didn't prepare you for any of this romantic crap. I sighed again. This called for another level of honesty.

His whisper made me jump. "You awake?"

I could feel him tensing up against me. I nodded and skimmed my hand down his arm around my waist, lacing my fingers through his in answer.

"That mean you're not gonna shoot me?" He was still whispering.

I laughed and matched his tone. "No shooting."

He gathered me up in his arms, pulling me closer. I felt a kiss in my hair and he relaxed back into the pillows.

"Go back to sleep." He murmured. "You were up late."

"So were you." I reminded him.

"I slept all day."

He had a point. I was still dead tired. I let myself drift back to sleep.

…………………………………….Suddenly I was sliding across a slick mat of dead leaves, small shrubs and overgrowth reaching out of the gloom to snag in my hair and rip into my flesh. An abrupt stop against a stone wall drew a grunt from me as I felt something in my wrist snap. To my horror I could hear the creature coming straight for me at full speed. Apparently I'd miscalculated. Ignoring the pain, I reached for my gun and scrambled up to my feet. No gun! I took half a second to look around frantically, then hurdled the low stone barrier and landed in a run while I grabbed for my knife. It was there! I pulled it and the blade, glittering in the moonlight, immediately fell to the earth as searing pain shot through my hand and halfway up my arm. Shit!! Wrong hand!! Way beyond terrified now, I slid to a halt and did a 180 just as a bunch of needle-like teeth and talons preceded a pair of glowing red eyes over the fence at me. I ducked but it was too late and I shrieked as my chest was punctured and it's weight knocked me back flat on the ground. It shoved its talons in me as deep as they'd go, then delicately pulled them out and licked them clean of my blood as I watched in revulsion and pain. I had trouble breathing as it sat on my hips and I was paralyzed, unable to move or tear my eyes away from it. When its claws were clean it smiled and ripped open my shirt with one razor-edged talon. The thing lowered its face to lick the blood steadily oozing from the holes it had punched in my chest and I ordered myself to MOVE but just lay there frozen and powerless and hysterical on the inside. It took its time, relishing my blood like a wine connoisseur and I began feeling cold and weak. I looked beyond it, and to my shock I saw that a large group of these things had gathered and were jostling each other as if trying to get the best place in line! The creature on top of me noticed them too, and reluctantly stood; stepping aside to let four others surround me. They raised their talons and I tried to scream and –

"Six!"

I heard his voice and turned blindly toward it. I felt something grab me and automatically resisted.

He released me. "It's just a dream!"

I struggle to get control and finally did, finding myself standing near the front door. I looked over at him, confused.

He gave me a dramatic "hell if I know" look. "When Sammy has visions he just sits up in bed and kinda gasps like a fish. You were as close to airborne as I've ever seen a human get. You know how Fred Flintstone would be like hanging in the air with his legs moving then he would take off like a shot? Yeah. That was you."

"Funny." It was actually a little amusing.

He shrugged, watching me. "Made you smile. Come 'ere." He sat back down on the bed.

I joined him, my hands still shaking.

"Tell me." He'd been going through books again, and I saw that several were book marked now.

"It stuck its claws in my chest and then l-l-licked them off." I shuddered, remembering the feeling of its coarse tongue on me. "Then it tore my shirt off and – and licked the b-blood off me. Then I was a freaking smorgasbord for all of its dumb-assed buddies." Now I was getting mad. It had basically passed me around like I was a tub of KFC thighs and drumsticks. Not cool. I felt sharp pain and looked down at my chest, not believing what I saw. Blood was staining under my shirt. "Dean!"

He saw it, his eyes widened, and then he rather comically had a moral dilemma; reaching to pull up my shirt, then pulling his hands away like it was on fire. "Do you – can I -? I mean I won't – Shit. It's not like I haven't seen it." His hands had been dancing around and now he gave up and just grabbed the fabric, pulling it up over my bra. I raised my arms for him and he smoothly finished removing it, throwing it behind us on the bed. We both stared at my chest. There were 10 identical puncture holes in an arc across the top of my breasts, each bleeding lightly. I groaned and went numb, falling back on the bed.

He went to the bathroom and returned with a cloth run under cold water, then began dabbing the blood away. "They're not deep. Shouldn't bleed long."

I swallowed and tried to nod. "I'm a lot of fun to hang out with, huh?" I muttered sarcastically.

"I've had worse times." He got the last of the blood off of me and went quiet.

I opened my eyes and caught him staring intently at the area below the holes in my chest.

He looked up, caught my eyes and non-plussed, lowered his gaze to my rack again. "Nice."

"You're taking advantage of a situation."

He didn't look away. "What's your point? Did you expect me to NOT look now that I know you're not bleeding to death?"

I felt a hard kick from my conscience, reminding me that I'd done the same thing to him. But I hadn't looked at private stuff, I argued with myself.

A slow smile spread across his face as my nipples turned traitor, enjoying the attention. They were standing up and announcing that they were damned glad to meet him.

I watched as his eyes softened, wandering down and then back up my body to my face. I knew he was going to kiss me. Oh. My. God. That look in his eyes. I instantly understood what those women had been talking about when they said you'd give him anything he wanted. At the moment I was thinking I'd give up my beloved Harley and throw in a billion dollars worth of muscle cars just to get him naked. Wait. That was what I wanted. But did I want to be one of those women? I already knew the answer to that. If I were just something fun to him, I would get my feelings hurt. I already liked him and I was old-school - I preferred not to give it up unless it meant something. I had to be honest. That's just the way I rolled. I battled for sanity.

He sighed and sat back. "Looks like you're trying to make a decision."

"Yes!" I grabbed onto the lifeline eagerly. "I need to, um, tell you something." This was dangerous territory, and also a proving ground. He could very well run like hell when he heard my secret.


	5. Chapter 5

Moonlight 5

Dean stood, then crossed the room, stopping to grab a beer. He opened it, took a drink then leaned back with one elbow on the kitchen counter, feet crossed in front of him. "Let me guess. You're married, engaged or madly in love with some guy that's gonna be showing up any minute now to try to pound my face in." He shook his head as if offended. "You know, I GET that they're mad, but why do they always have to show up at the worst possible time? It never fa – "

" - And this happens to you often?" I cut in incredulously. I sat up and grabbed my shirt, then realizing it was still bloody, looked around for my backpack.

"Not that often anymore." He got into his duffel bag, pulled out one of his flannel shirts and tossed it to me. "Sam pointed out that we had a long enough list of people and things gunning for us without my adding pissed off husbands and boyfriends to the mix. I couldn't argue that. So not lately."

I couldn't stop the sarcasm. "Oh!! Well okay then! If it hasn't been LATEly…"

He pursed his lips and looked at the floor, nodding to himself. "That isn't what you were gonna tell me, was it?"

"No." I slid into his shirt and buttoned it quickly. It was huge.

He nodded again and took a long drink. Obviously stalling for time, he then got another bottle out of the refrigerator, opened it and walked back to the bed. He offered it to me casually. "Beer?"

I shook my head.

He shrugged and took a drink from this bottle too.

"Any other guesses? That last one was very enlightening." I was being sarcastic, as usual.

It was almost cute how he didn't know when to shut up.

"Well, if you were a normal chick, and there wasn't another guy, and you were the good-girl type, then the commitment thing would come up about now." He obviously saw my eyebrows hit my hairline and hurried on. "But! You're not a normal girl - and I mean that in the best possible way – so I'm just gonna shut up now and let you tell me." He sat down beside me again after putting both beers on the nightstand.

I stared at him and sighed. "You're impossible."

"So I've heard." He deadpanned. He pushed back so he was sitting against the pillows on the headboard, one knee up.

I scooted over and sat cross-legged facing him. "My name is Six because I'm the sixth child in a line of sixth descendants."

He nodded. "So one of your parents was the sixth child of a sixth child plus three more like that and you're the last."

"Exactly. My mother was the sixth child of my grandparents." I studied his face to see his reaction.

There was none. "And this means what?" Just curiosity.

"There's a prophecy concerning me." I closed my eyes. This was the rough part.

"And I'm guessing it's not a good prophecy."

I shook my head ruefully. "Are they ever? The biggest problem is that no one knows the _exact_ prophecy except one person. And she disappeared."

"Your mom."

"Yes. It was written on something or other and placed in a locked box to be secretly handed down to every sixth child, but not to be opened until the last child was born."

"So your mom read it and split four years later without telling anyone what it was."

I nodded.

"How do you know it's bad if you don't know what it is?"

"Because what little I've come up with says so. Think about it. Six Six Six? The creature using me as a pincushion? I've had those dreams my whole life, of something chasing me through the woods, but just in the last month have they gotten longer and more detailed. Now suddenly yesterday morning the very thing I've seen in books and on the internet catches me in my dreams and appears in the damned bathroom. Doesn't look like sunshine and rainbows are headed my way if you ask me."

He grabbed one of his books off of the nightstand and opened it to a page he'd marked, then turned it so I could see too. "This the thing you saw?"

I nodded.

"Ugly as all get out." He pulled another book and opened another marked page. "It cross-references with a prophecy." He gestured to the pile of books. "They all reference it, but none of them actually spell the prophecy out, which corresponds with your family secret. Most of them don't say anything about the six generation part." He took the books and threw them on the floor beside the bed. "I didn't come up with anything you didn't already know."

I shook my head and stared at the bedspread. "I didn't figure you would. Thanks for lookin', though."

"Hey, don't be givin' up just yet. Sammy's not only adorable, but crazy smart with the research. He's an animal with it. Me? I usually just fall asleep."

I smiled, thinking of walking in to see him passed out with books all over yesterday. "Put you out for a good 6 hours."

He gave me a rueful half-smile. "I'm more of a doer than a researcher. I'm not very good at sittin' still."

"I noticed. You're pretty full of energy for a guy that went 8 rounds with a ninja. Not to mention the zillion stitches."

"Are there really that many? I haven't even looked." He pulled up his t-shirt and lifted the gauze bandage. "Hmm. Guess so. You did a nice job." He replaced the gauze. "What's the back look like?" He pulled his shirt off over his head, stretched out and rolled onto his stomach.

I moved over next to him and lightly touched a spot directly above the start of his stitches. "It begins here…" - I drew a line across his back - " …and ends here. This one's much worse than the one in front. Pretty deep."

"No wonder I feel like crap. Is that it?" His turned his head to watch me.

"No. You've got a cut here, and a horrible bruise here, more cuts here, here, and here." I gently touched each spot. "You know there's painkillers in the ER over there. You must feel like a truck ran over you." I started to get up but he stopped me with a hand.

"I don't like to take that stuff. But thanks." His voice was so deep, especially when he talked softly.

"Then how about this?" I couldn't seem to stop touching him. I began massaging the muscles in his back, avoiding the deeper cuts and bruises. I used my thumbs mostly, the way I'd been taught, singling out various muscles and pressure points that relieved tension, then going back over the entire area and neck.

When I was done he sighed out a groan of contentment. "God God, woman, is there nothing you don't do well?"

I flopped down beside him on my back, staring at the ceiling. "Sure there is. Lots of stuff. I can't cook; I've never met a microwave meal I didn't like. I love to go fishing, but I won't touch the worm or the fish. They feel gross. I don't take orders well - Jesse says I have issues with authority. I can't – " Suddenly his finger was on my lips. I looked over and he was smiling at me, amused. Dimples!

He rolled from his stomach onto his side while snaking an arm around me and pulling me up next to him. Propped up on one elbow, he looked down at me. "I'm planning on kissing you. Any decisions you need to make? Anything else you want to tell me?"

I mutely shook my head.

"You sure?" Without giving me time to reply he leaned in and kissed me, first softly, then again, then harder. His hand brushed back a lock of my hair then touched my cheek as he kissed me again.

I ran my hand over his shoulder and pulled him closer, kissing him back. I wanted to kiss him all day. This was waaaay better than the wonderfully huge magic bathtub. By a long shot. It was a deep, thorough, excellent kiss and when it finally ended it took everything I had to stop myself from shaking.

He was quiet for a minute then he smiled down at me. "You're shaking."

"Whatever. Am not." I wasn't sure what was happening next. I knew what I WANTED to happen. I'd told him my secret, made him aware of my unknown long-term availability, and in doing so had probably let on that I had some feelings for him. That hadn't scared him off, but I still didn't have any answers as to how he felt. If he tried anything further, I'd have to call him on it. The chicken-shit female in me didn't want to hear the answer if it was bad. Being a girl really sucked sometimes. Or maybe it was just me - the Great Overthinker. I sighed.

He rolled onto his back. "Come 'ere."

I snuggled up to him, sliding my hand around his waist as he put his arm around me.

"We're gonna figure out the prophecy and nothing bad's gonna happen to you. Me and Sam will make sure of that. Okay?"

" 'kay." Sounded good to me. I was sick of worrying about it.

He slid the fingers of his free hand through mine. He had big hands. Long fingers.

"When are we supposed to call Sammy back today? Anytime soon?"

I checked my watch. "No. _I'M_ supposed to call him by 4:00."

He ignored my emphasis. "Good...It must have been really hard for you without your mom growing up."

"You should know." I reminded him.

"Yeah, but you're a girl. With all that girl stuff."

"I think every kid needs a mom when they're little. Some of us just weren't that fortunate. You and Sam turned out all right."

"Not so sure about that." There was a long pause. "I'm going with you to use the phones."

"Dean." I raised my head to look at him. "You're in no shape –"

"You don't worry about it. It's not that far is it?"

I hated to admit it, but it wasn't. "I found a path that runs from the cabin to the road. If we take it, it's less than a mile, with about a quarter mile of uphill. But you really should -"

" - And you really shouldn't be by yourself. And I need to talk to my brother. So quit trying to tell me I'm not going." We stared each other down.

"Ass. I hate when people tell me what to do."

His voice was affectionate. "Bitch. So do I."

I couldn't help it. I kissed him.

I admittedly had some control issues. I suppose they were from my childhood when I'd been soft and sweet and desperate to fit in and be liked. That had resulted in my being walked all over like the huge braided rug covering most of the floor in the cabin. I'd finally decided it was my way or the highway, especially concerning men. As my weapons training and hunting skills had improved, my no-bullshit attitude had emerged in spades. Most men were intimidated by me. A few tried to "break" me, like I was some kind of wild horse or something. Never worked. A man who would stand up to me and could put me in my place without pissing me off was like catnip to my kitty cat. Dean was looking like a very large plastic container of dried green leaves about now, and I wanted to tear off the lid and dive in.

The kiss became heated quickly , despite my taking him by surprise. I'd ended up on my back with him half on top of me, when he very gently disengaged and sat up, holding both of my hands. "Let's just slow down."

I was hurt. Why would he want to slow down? This was a man who'd charmed half the women in the country into bed, by the sounds of things. What was wrong with me? I jerked away from him and sat up, moving to the other side of the bed. I conveniently ignored the fact that I'd just told myself I'd have to call him on his feelings if things got more physical. It's a woman's perogative to change her mind.

Realizing he'd hurt my feelings, he looked to the ceiling as if for guidance. "Damn it," he muttered. He lowered his eyes to me. "It's not a rejection. I just need to think."

"About what?"

He locked eyes with me for a couple of seconds, then turned his head and looked over to the fireplace. He was silent, stonefaced. His jaw was clenching.

"Oh I get it. I spill my guts to you about my family secret that I've never told anyone, but you can't tell me your stupid excuse for kicking me out of bed. That's really nice."

He looked back at me quickly, impatience clouding his features. "I told you it isn't a rejection. Don't get all over dramatic."

Over dramatic! Was he calling me over dramatic? That pushed me right over the edge. I stood up, turned my back on him, and headed for the front door. After a detour to grab my gun off the table, I slammed outside.

"Son of a bitch… Six! Get back here!"

I headed down the path along the river, and when it got to the edge of the clearing the cabin was in, I cut up the hill into the trees and dense bushes. I'd show his ass 'over dramatic'. I found a choice spot and sat down, looking at the cabin in the distance.

He was out back. He went inside, then reemerged wearing a shirt and boots, tucking his gun into the waistband at his back. He started walking along the path and we both heard the engine at the same time. He stopped, obviously recognizing the sound, then continued walking.

From my higher position, I could see the vehicle slowly approaching before it rounded the bend. It was an immaculate black '67 Impala, growling as if it wanted to work much harder than it was being allowed. Sweet car.

Dean and the Impala met directly below my hiding spot on the side of the hill. "Sammy!" He ran his hand along the hood of the car, as if he were petting it. "Hi, baby. Did you miss me? Is Sammy taking good care of you?"

Well. There was my answer. He didn't want me because he was in love with the freakin' car. I rolled my eyes.

The engine shut down, the door opened and Sam got out. Damn! I wondered what their father had looked like. Judging by these two, there was no hint of an ugly branch in the Winchester family tree.

"I wasn't expecting you to meet me, Dean. What are you doin' out here?"

Sam motioned to Dean's shirt, and Dean lifted it for him, showing him the front wound, then back.

"Tryin' to find Six. She got pissed off and ran out."

Sam smiled. "What'd you do to her?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"Because it usually is."

Dean had no answer to that. "What are you doin' out here, man?"

Sammy turned his back to me and leaned against the side of the car. His words were lost on the breeze.

"No kidding. That's weird."

Sam nodded.

"So what were you tryin' to do to me with those code words, anyway? I asked you to talk to her and give me your opinion, not if I should - " He turned and joined his brother, leaning against the car. They talked for a few minutes.

Ha! The code words weren't about a case. THAT was why his reaction had felt off. They were talking about me! Now what the hell did that mean? Could be good, could be bad.

Dean turned sideways. "Dude. I don't know; she's just different. I'm pretty sure she can kick your ass with one hand tied behind her back, though."

I could hear Sam laugh. He asked Dean something else.

He didn't answer for a minute, staring at the toe of his boot, then nodded. "I guess you're right…. Anyway, listen, we need to find her. She's got some problems besides what she told you, and she doesn't need to be out here by herself."

Sam reached through the car window and pulled out his gun. "What problems?"

"We can talk about it later. She probably went uphill to call for a ride out of here." They started climbing up through the brush.

"You pissed her off that bad?" Sam wanted to know. "Nice job, Dean."

"Shut it, Sammy. You're not helping."

Sam just laughed.

I made a half-circle toward the hard road, down to the dirt path, and back toward the car and the cabin. I was almost to the car when they silently materialized out of the woods. Had I not been expecting them they would have scared the hell out of me.

"You all right?" Dean walked over to me, looking concerned.

"Fine. Are you?" I felt a momentary stab of guilt for making him look for me in his condition. He actually looked a little white.

He ignored the question. "Sam, this is Six. Six, my brother Sam."

Sam came over and shook my hand. "Hey. It's nice to meet you." Soft voice. Hard body. Very tall.

I smiled up at him. "You too. It was good talking to you yesterday. You made me feel a lot better."

"I'm glad I could help." He looked down at my shirt, then sideways at Dean, trying not to smile.

"What?" I looked down, seeing I had on Dean's too long, too low flannel shirt. "Oh." That should give him the wrong impression, huh? "Mine was bloody and – and oh hell with it." If I'd had my way I would've slept with him. Did I really care if Sam thought we did?

Sam smiled at me. "I'm not jumping to conclusions. It's just that you look really cute in it, like my brother said."

I turned to Dean. He was glaring at Sam. Catching my look, he gave me a winning smile. "Right. Like I said."

"So your brother is trying to get you out of trouble with me? You guys ARE tight."

"Hey! I DID say that!" Dean protested.

"You know, you were wrong about one thing." I grinned at him, deciding to let go of my hurt feelings for now, for Sam's sake. Wasn't his fault his brother made me insane. Plus I wanted to know what brought him out here.

"What?"

"You're not better looking than Sam."

Sam cracked up. "Yeah, Dean. I keep tryin' to tell you..." He put his arm around me and we started walking to the car. "I like you already."


	6. Chapter 6

Moonlight 6

Sam and Dean were sitting at the table talking when I entered the little cabin. During the short ride back, Sam had told me the Impala had been totaled and that Dean had basically rebuilt it from scratch. There'd been a horrible wreck with a huge truck and they'd all been injured, Dean seriously. The brothers had grown quiet remembering it, and I guessed worse things had happened than just a car wreck. I'd taken a few minutes to look over the car while they went inside, finding it almost impossible to see any repairs. I could understand why Dean loved it so much now. And I had to admit, I'd been known to talk to my motorcycle before. I'd _named_ him, er, it. Who was I to judge?

"The car looks fantastic. I think you missed your calling, Dean." I was joking, of course, knowing that all of us were living our calling, unfortunately.

"Thanks. Thinkin' about starting a business." He eyed me, amused. "Don't tell me you know all about cars, too."

"Nope. Just motorcycles. But bodywork is all the same. The Impala looks awesome, seriously."

He lowered his head and looked at the table. "Thanks."

Sam looked on, intrigued. "Dean? Is that you?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Shut up Sam. Tell her what happened." He looked at me. "You and Sam need to get caught up. Looks like he's having visions again."

"Really? What about?" I pulled up a chair at the table with them.

Sam looked at me for a second, not sure how to begin. "Actually, about you. You're running through a forest and something's after you. You break your wrist, you lose your gun, you drop your knife, the creature gets you. Then it lets 4 more have you."

I was floored. I sat back in my chair; feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me. I quickly looked to Dean.

He put his hands in the air. "Don't look at me. I didn't tell him anything."

"But why - why would you be having my visions?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess there's a connection somewhere. How, I don't know."

Dean shifted in his chair. "There's more to her story, too. You mind telling him about it? He might be able to dig something up that we couldn't."

I quickly shook my head. I filled Sam in on my "sixth generation" status and the prophecy no one knew except for my mother. I gave him all the information I knew about her in the hopes that he could work his magic on the computer and possibly find her. I had seriously mixed feelings about it. She knew something I obviously needed to know, but after being abandoned by her I wasn't all that sure I wanted to find her. Ever.

I turned to Dean. "So. How did you manage to ask Sam to talk to me and give you his opinion with nothing more than 'Dean asked if you could help us with my problem'? What exactly was the code word there?"

Dean looked as if he'd swallowed the bottle cap off his beer for just a second, then regained his composure. "You were lurking, huh?"

"Of course I was. I just couldn't hear most of the conversation."

"Because we turned our backs." His tone was little too smug.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah you're very clever boys. So what was the code word?"

Sam volunteered the information. "There really wasn't a word by itself. Just the fact that he was asking for help was a red flag. He already knew I wouldn't mind helping you and would have just told you to get me up to date."

I glanced over at Dean. "That's really sad, dude. You NOT ordering Sam around is a red flag? What kind of a brother are you?"

Sam looked from me to Dean.

"Dean? You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Drop it, Sammy."

I watched as they stared at each other. There appeared to be a sort of eyeball tug-of-war going on between them. "Tell me what?"

"Dean?" Sam prompted him.

"Just because you said I should doesn't mean that I _did._" Dean's jaw was clenching. "I'm still _thinking_, Sam."

His brother was exasperated. "Are you telling her or am I? Because one of us is."

"Damn it, I never said I WASN'T. I just said I haven't yet. As in made up my mind. It's kind of MY deal, you know?"

Sam did a full head and eye roll. "Oh!! YOUR deal! Like I wasn't INVOLVED or anything!?"

I decided to step in before they started swinging. I stood up. "HEY! SIT DOWN!"

They turned and stared at me wide-eyed, as if shocked, then both mutely sat down.

Heh heh. Worked every time on my brothers, too. "Look. Whatever it is? I don't need-"

Sam shot Dean a look and then interrupted me. "Listen. What everyone's heard about the yellow-eyed bastard's plan is wrong. The last psychic alive wasn't me. I was, uh, killed. Dean sold his soul to a demon to bring me back to life. He has less than 11 months left before the demon cashes in."

I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out as the words sank into my brain. I closed my mouth. I turned from Sam to Dean.

His face was like stone. He simply raised his palms, then put his hands back down on the table.

I understood. He felt that he had to. Dean took care of his little brother, his only family. I could never imagine the guilt he felt for not getting there in time to save Sam or the soul-searching that went into that decision. Or how Sam must feel about it, knowing what Dean had given up for him. My heart broke for both of them. Being the badass that I was, though, I wouldn't let on. Much. Probably they hadn't seen the tears welling before I blinked them back. "So. Big case you're working on: How to break a deal with the devil and get your soul back in under 11 months? "

They both nodded grimly.

I sat back down. "All righty then. I think that's a little more important than mine. I've got some different books than you do, I'll start going through them. Seems like I heard a story once, I just can't remember -"

Dean interrupted me. "Your situation is getting worse by the day and there's no reason why we can't work on both. You agree, Sam?"

Sam nodded. "Definitely."

"You?" Dean's eyes shifted to me.

I nodded absently, my mind already running through folklore, tall tales, and rumors I'd heard in search of an answer for the brothers' predicament. I got up and grabbed one of my books off the floor by the bed, then returned to the table. Dean was telling Sam what I'd told him about my visions.

"How long ago did you say the dreams started getting longer?" Sam wanted to know.

I thought for a minute. "I guess around a month ago." I could see his brain working overtime.

He turned to Dean. "What else happened a month ago?"

"All hell broke loose. Literally." He straightened up in the chair. "So somehow hell breaking open triggered her visions?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. My psychic power was given to me by the demon in order for all that to happen, so it could explain my connection."

"Makes sense. But why has the creature suddenly caught me, I wonder? Is it just the timing of the prophecy, or…" I looked sideways at Dean. "… because I've been hanging out with a Winchester?"

Dean nodded. "I suppose it's possible that we're all tied up in this together somehow." He turned to Sam. "We need to find out what the prophecy says."

Sam stood up, fishing in his pocket for the car keys. "I'm on it."

Dean stood also. "Maybe we should go with you. I don't like being without phones here."

"Sorry, man. Small town; one motel. The only room available had one bed in it. You might as well stay here - I'd hate to have to fight you for the bed in your condition." Sam looked around the place. "This is a hell of a lot nicer, too."

"Stay here, Sam. We can figure out something so everyone sleeps comfortably." I felt Dean's eyes on me but didn't dare look at him. Nobody had slept on the couch so far.

"Thanks, but I already paid for 2 more nights." He smiled broadly. "Besides, it's a lot easier to do research by myself."

"Yeah, I miss you too, geek-boy." Dean threw at him.

I got up and went to the cabinets. "Well, at least take some food with you. You won't have to eat out, anyway." I found a small empty box and loaded it up with sandwiches, chips, beer and water.

He came over and took it from me. "Wow, thanks. Where'd all this stuff come from?"

"Don't know. Comes with the cabin." I looked over at Dean, who was watching with a small smile. "You hungry?"

He shook his head.

I hugged Sam goodbye. "Thanks for coming out. And helping. And stuff."

I waved as Dean followed him out the door.

…………………They were still leaning on the car talking when I went out to try my contacts again. "Goin' up the hill to use the phone." I shook my head as I walked by. They obviously weren't used to spending this much time apart. It was nice to see, though. I had a big family and we'd been tight when we were all young, but as we'd gotten older and set out on our own paths, we'd drifted apart. Our parents hadn't set much of an example for us, so I guess it was inevitable.

I'd reached the hill when I heard the car heading my way. By the time I'd climbed far enough to catch a signal it had stopped below me, idling. I tried my people, again getting no answers. I left voicemail messages and snapped my phone shut, wondering where in the hell everyone was and why they weren't answering. When I reached the road below Sam was waiting.

"Hop in. I'll give you a ride back."

I got in and Sam backed the car up then turned around, heading to the cabin. "Get a hold of anyone?"

"No. It's starting to worry me."

"You're probably just missing each others' calls." He smiled reassuringly.

"I suppose. Hey, can I ask you something?"

He laughed. "I've been waiting."

I was confused. "What?"

"You're gonna ask me about Dean, right?"

I felt my face flush. "That happen a lot? "

He nodded.

New question. "I just wondered how you guys ended up so different."

Sam looked over at me, then back at the road. "We're not so different. My brother just keeps it all inside. Our Dad was… he expected a lot from Dean. Too much. He always looked out for me, kept me away from the bad stuff as much as he could when I was young. I didn't want anything to do with hunting, so I took off, went away to college, had a normal life for years. He's never had that."

"I see."

"Anything else?"

"Nope." I reminded myself that I was a big girl and this wasn't high school. I would NOT ask Sam what Dean had said about me. I wasn't positive I wanted to hear it anyway.

"He likes you, you know." He kept his eyes on the road.

I slowly shook my head. "You think?" I wasn't so sure.

He nodded. "He said you guys talked all night."

"We did. So?" We pulled up behind the cabin and Sam let the Impala idle.

"Not usually how he spends his nights with women. He's not interested in getting to know them, um, that way."

"I've heard. " I had no other response to that. Not trying to get my clothes off meant he might like me. He respected me, possibly. Scary perspective. Here was another thought. "He's just too busted up to try anything. Besides, we fight like crazy. I'm too independent for his tastes." He _had_ kissed me though. Then later stopped playing just when it was getting fun. Because of his own uncertain future? Boys were confusing. Had been since kindergarten. Why should this one be any different?

"Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see." He smiled. Dimples on this one, too. "No little sisters, huh?"

I laughed. "You are so cute, Sammy. Sorry, sweetheart. If I did she'd adore you, I'm sure. Look, be careful. If that thing tried to materialize on me, it might try you, too."

"Good point. I'll take some precautions. Give me a call tomorrow and we can compare notes." He stopped me as I opened the car door. "Hey. Thanks for taking care of my brother."

"Please. It's the least I can do. He got hurt helping with my case."

"Goodnight, then.

" 'Night Sam."

………. Dean was stretched out on the couch, head on a pillow when I got inside. The bathroom door was open and steam was still faintly visible, hanging in the air. A fire was just getting started in the fireplace, putting a dent in the chill starting to seep in from outdoors. Night was coming soon. "You all right?"

"Yep."

"Get your stitches wet in the shower?"

"Yep."

"Tryin' to piss me off?" I walked over to the couch.

"No."

"Let me see." He lifted his shirt and showed me the wound on his side. "Turn over please." He sighed, but did as I said. "Ok. Stay there." I went to the ER and found a pack of antibiotics, some painkillers, and some gauze bandages, then grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. I returned to the couch and set the pills and the water on the end table. After I taped a bandage on his lower back, I had him roll over and added one to his front. "It doesn't look as good as it could. I'd like you to take some antibiotics in case of an infection."

"Since you asked nicely." He sat up, noticing the two sets of pills. "You and Sammy makin' out in my car out there?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's coming back tomorrow so we can do it again. The boy might be young, but he's got mad skills."

"Runs in the family." After deliberating a moment, he took one of each, then stretched out again on the couch.

"Hmmn. I wouldn't know." I opened the chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a blanket, taking it back to him and unfolding it. After I covered his legs I sat on the floor by his side, knees up, back against the couch cushions.

"You know why now."

"Yes. You're hurt much too badly for sex."

He snorted laughter. "Doubtful. But whatever you want to think is fine."

"Oh boy! You're Superman in a Winchester disguise! But seriously, Dean, I get it. Neither one of us has a clear future, so I already know what you're thinking."

"You do, huh? You know that I'm totally off my game because usually I'm pretending to be someone I'm _not_ when I'm with a girl? An FBI agent, a U.S. Marshal, electrician, whatever… I don't even - " He abruptly stopped, seemingly unsettled that he'd said so much. "Never mind."

I sat staring into the fire for a few minutes. I turned around, got to my knees and kissed his cheek. "I feel sorry for those girls. It's too bad they never met the real Dean - the hunter that goes though hell saving people from evil shit they don't even believe in; the smart, funny guy that's great to stay up all night talking to; the hopeless dude in love with his car; and the best damned brother Sam could ever ask for, among other things. Because if you ask me, they really missed out."

I got up and went to the kitchen, looking through cabinets for something to fix for dinner. I found some soup and put it on to simmer while frozen hamburger patties defrosted in the microwave. In the meantime, I planned to say hello to the magic bathtub.

………….. "Thought you said you couldn't cook?" Dean pushed his chair away from the table and took his plate and bowl to the sink.

"Canned soup and frozen burgers is hardly considered cooking." I took mine over also and rinsed them all off, returning to the table to wipe it down.

"Hey, if it isn't out of a vending machine or from a gas station microwave, then you're cooking." He went back to the couch, settling in.

"Great. I'll add it to my resume." I curled up in the lone chair in the living room area, a deep cushy recliner. "So was Sam really onto something big in your case?" Overthinker was still trying to figure out code words, besides being genuinely interested.

"No. Can we not talk about that?"

"Sure thing. You think the Colts will make it to the Super Bowl again this season?" I reclined in the chair, finding it almost as comfy as the bed.

He turned his head to look at me. "You're a Colts Fan?"

"I didn't say that, Conclusion Jumper. I simply asked if you thought they'd repeat."

"Chances are slim to none and Slim just rode out of town. Cowboys got it this year."

"Yeah. Good luck with that." I closed my eyes, feeling clean with a full belly. Time for my nap. "It's time for my nap."

"You are…."

I opened my eyes to stare at him. "Yeah. I know. Not normal. But it's ok, cuz you're a couch hog and that's a far worse thing. This chair is too far away from the fire."

"Nothing stopping you from joining me. And I was going to say _funny_." He glanced my way.

I got up and went over, waiting for him to sit up.

He turned on his side and pushed up against the back of the couch, motioning to the area in front of him. "Sorry. The painkiller made me too tired to get up."

I shook my head. "You're so lame."

He gave me a charming smile. "You said you wanted a nap. Might as well be lying down." His eyes were a little glazed.

The man had a point. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to torture myself this way. Realizing I was thinking too much again, I stretched out, leaning back into him carefully. It was lying on a couch together, for crying out loud. Sharing some body heat. Big deal.

His arm slid around my waist and I felt a strange sense of security. I wasn't scared of much, beside the complexities of relationships, obviously, but it was nice to feel someone so close in a non-sexual way. Rare. But relaxing. "You're very comfortable, Winchester."

"So are you. You smell good." His speech was slowing.

I smiled. The drugs must really be getting to him. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah… feel kinda floaty…. what'd you give me?"

"The good stuff, buddy. You can take some time off from the pain."

He sighed contentedly. "You're nice."

"I try."


	7. Chapter 7

Moonlight 7

Realizing what most likely awaited me if I fell asleep, I decided it would be better to NOT lie down. "Hey. Changed my mind. I need to get up."

"Nuh uh. I'm too comfy."

"I really don't want to have another vision." I tried to sit up but his arm held me close to him.

"They're coming whether you want them to or not. You'll probably start having them while you're awake."

"Fantastic. Something else to look forward to." I rolled onto my back so I could see him. "Any other good news?"

"Sam likes you."

"I know. He's a great kisser." I smiled sweetly.

"You tryin' to make me jealous?" He worked to focus on my face.

"Are you?"

He closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them. Silence.

I touched my finger to his lips. "Saying nothing is the same as admitting it." I was feeling brave since my conversation with Sammy, and well, since he was drugged.

He gently bit my fingertip. "Sam wouldn't try anything."

"Why? Am I not worthy?" Dangle the bait...

"He knows I'd kick his ass." Ha! Reel him in.

I smiled smugly to myself. That was probably the most romantic declaration of affection Dean could give right now. His inner caveman was claiming ownership of me. Awwww. He _did_ like me. "If Sam tried to kiss _you_, I'd kick his ass too."

He managed to look pained and confused at the same time. "That sounds wrong in so many ways I can't even count 'em." He kissed me anyway, long and deep, then abruptly pulled away. "What are we doin'?" He sat up, making himself dizzy in the process.

"Um. Kissing?" I quickly got up also, grabbing his arm to support him while trying to unscramble my brain.

"Look. I don't..." He trailed off.

"I do. Come on." I stood and helped him get up, leading him over to the bed. "Lie down, Dean. Just relax, okay?" Time to be direct and to the point.

He stretched out, sighing gratefully as his head hit the pillow. I crawled to the other side and sat cross-legged facing him. "I can't imagine where your head's at right now."

He was silent, no emotion on his face. Normal for Dean.

"You know Sam's doing everything to find a way to reverse the deal you made and I intend to help, and in the meantime, however you want this 'thing' between us to work is fine with me. I mean, there doesn't even have to be a 'thing'." If it was gonna cause him mental trauma, like it seemed to be doing every time we kissed, there wasn't a point to it. Disappointing and very sucky, but true. The guy had enough to deal with.

His green eyes conveyed none of his thoughts.

"I'll understand, trust me."

He was still quiet.

"You're not too messed up on the painkiller to get what I'm saying, are you?"

He shook his head.

"Good. So try not to worry about anything but being pain free while it lasts. You know. If you want." Didn't want to sound all bossy and stuff. God forbid. "You need anything?"

Assessing me quietly, as always, he turned on his side. "Music?"

"I have my i-pod with me." I hopped off the bed and grabbed it out of my backpack.

"What's on it?" He was looking at me skeptically.

I handed it to him. "Everything that rocks."

"Classic?"

"Of course. New, old, if it's rock it's on there. Why? Is that all you like?"

He already had the earphones on his head. I watched, curious, while he skipped through songs, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. His eyes opened wide, his finger stilled and he broke into a broad grin, giving me a thumbs up. I gave him one back and went to grab a beer, rolling my eyes. He was easily amused, obviously. That was always handy to know about a man.

"Hey, can I get one of those beers?"

I answered without looking back. "No. You in a coma is no fun for me. You just lay there." I grabbed him a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and turned to find him staring at me, mouth half open and headphones off. For a second I thought he was going to argue with me, then he smiled.

"You're naughty. I like it."

I laughed and shook my head slowly. "You're a mess, Winchester. That's only a naughty statement if you have a dirty mind." I handed him the water.

"Do I look like a choirboy?"

I sat on the bed beside him and looked carefully. He must have been so very pretty when he was younger. I much preferred his looks now to the smooth baby face he must have once had. There was a fairly recent scar over his eye that ran from eyebrow to hairline I guessed had come from the car wreck. That part I didn't prefer, but you couldn't help noticing it. Just a small scar on his chin, but his eyes had lines beside them that showed character and experience and hard work and a not so fun life. A day or two of not shaving added to his hard-edged look, and quite frankly drove me wild. In the good way. His t-shirt could not hide the muscular arms and chest, or flat belly and I had to tear my eyeballs away at that point. God, I was a moron. I should have just stared at his package. He'd done it to my rack. But, sadly, one of us had to be a grown-up here. Sort of. I looked back up at his face. "What was the question?"

He nodded knowingly. "You want me." Smirk.

"Maybe. But I know your type - you know you're hot and you use it every chance you can get. You're not at all what I'd be looking for, if I was looking, but I happen to like you a lot and that makes me weak, so I actually appreciate that you're not treating like your usual conquest and just diving on in." I took a long drink off my beer and wondered if I'd just said that out loud. From the look on his face, I assumed the answer was yes. I sighed. This wasn't new. I could only worry and wonder about a situation for so long, then at some random moment all these words fell out of my face that I had no control over. Now I'd be worrying and wondering if he took it as an insult, or had focused on the fact that I'd just told him I liked him, _a lot_, or some lethal combination of both. I definitely knew how to scare off a man, didn't I? I decided to take the bull by the horns. "That wasn't actually an insult, it just kinda... sounded like one. I mean, to each his own in the ways of sex and love. And stuff." I felt my face begin the familiar embarrassment burn. "Yeah. So. I'm just – uh – gonna..." I stood, grabbed my beer and edged my way to the door, pointing at it stupidly for clarification. I escaped, closing it behind me and went around back to the fence to watch the river run by.

Moonlight sparkled off the water, catching small explosions of spray in the air as the current swept small branches and bigger limbs against rocks jutting up near the sandy banks. I took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air unsullied by city life. The sound of the water rushing along was relaxing, and in a few minutes I felt much less like crawling into a hole. What was that thing Will had always said? 'Nature revives the soul', or something like that. He swore whenever he was confused or upset, getting outside and close to nature always gave him peace. It was working for me tonight. I looked to the stars and silently thanked him.

I hadn't said anything to Dean that was a lie. My timing left a lot to be desired, but the main problem was that I worried too damned much what he thought of me and my big mouth. I really had nothing to be embarrassed about. If anyone could handle, and possibly even appreciate the truth, it was Dean.

As if on cue I heard footsteps coming around the cabin. I turned to make sure it was him, and after seeing his silhouette I went back to my water gazing.

He appeared beside me and hesitantly offered one of his flannel shirts. "Cold?"

I took it from him, grateful for its warmth. I'd put on my pajamas after my bath; a tank top and thin cotton pants, and I was barefoot. "Thanks." I noticed he'd dressed in a flannel shirt and a jacket and was armed to the teeth. "Going somewhere?"

"I thought of something I need to run past Sam." He flashed his cell phone at me.

I opened my mouth to argue and he gave me a look that closed it. Immediately. He was going, regardless of anything I said. "Fine. I'm coming with you. Just let me go in and grab some shoes."

"You're not coming."

"Damn it Dean! Don't be stupid!" Men had no common sense.

"I'm fine." He started walking away, which only infuriated me more.

I shrugged into his shirt and went after him, trying to catch up with his long strides.

He turned his head and saw me, but kept walking. "We're done talking. You should get inside now. Here." He pulled a pistol from his side and held it up in the the air for a second, then turned and tossed it to me. "You're too far from the cabin. Safety's on."

He resumed walking as I glared at his receding back. "You're really pissing me off, Winchester! This is the third time I've wanted to shoot you in the past few days! You better move faster if you know what's good for you!"

His voice floated back to me as he became almost invisible in the darkness. "You won't do it. You like me."

"Wanna bet?" I flicked off the safety and squeezed off a round toward the far riverbank upstream, opposite of his direction. He'd made his point. He could do what he wanted. It was necessary that I make a point, too. Do not take me for granted in any situation.

"Holy shit!"

I smiled. Point made.

... I'd washed off my feet and crawled under the covers of the big fluffy bed after throwing a blanket and pillow on the couch for him. I was almost asleep, remembering the sound of the river when he came in. I hadn't left any lights on for him, so only firelight illuminated the cabin. He set his weapons on the table and went to the couch, kicking off his boots and socks, then stripped down to his jeans, bending forward to check out his stitches. I closed my eyes and heard him padding softly to the side of the bed.

"You awake?"

I didn't open my eyes. "Depends on what you have to say. I might be _'done talking'_ for now."

He laughed. "You _shot _at me and _you're_ the one holding a grudge?"

I looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't shoot _at _you and you know it. I was just trying to scare you."

"Oh, I'm scared all right." He shook his head in amazement. "I knew you shot upriver. Just wanted to see if you'd admit it. And by the way? You're nuts."

"No more than you, babe. You think normal people would last in this business?"

He ran his hand down over his face, seeming tired. "I suppose you're right. After a minute or two I thought it was funny as hell. What's that say about me?" He sat on the side of the bed next to me. "Sam's got some addresses. He's trying to narrow them down now."

"On my mother? Already?" I was amazed. I'd never tried to find her but I was sure she'd cover her tracks. "How?"

"He's the Grand Poobah of the 'Poindexter Club'. He can hack his way into anything, anywhere, anytime." He sighed. "He's too smart to be doing this for a living."

"Genius IQ?"

He shrugged. "He just sucks up everything you teach him and everything he reads and keeps it all in his head. I give him a hard time, but..."

"You're really proud of him."

"He quit law school to help me find Dad." He looked at the floor. "And the demon."

"Wow. Law school. But that was his decision; you shouldn't feel guilty about that. Wait. Hold up. You were _looking _for the demon? Why? Everyone thought it went after you guys."

"It was playing us but we didn't know it 'til close to the end." He sighed and stared over at the fire. His voice was very quiet. "It killed our mom and Sam's girlfriend."

I sucked in some air in horror. This was not common knowledge and I was shocked. More than anything horrified at the reasons for the hunt, but shocked that the whole story wasn't out there among the gossipers and shocked that he was actually telling me about it. Especially after the near smack down between the brothers over telling me about Sam's death and resurrection. "Jesus, Dean. I'm so sorry." I sat there feeling dumb and helpless, knowing nothing I said would make make him feel any better. And I really wanted to make him feel better.

"Yeah. Me too."

I slid my hand into his and we sat like that for a while, silent, staring into the fire. I wondered if his meds had worn off. "How are you feeling?"

He looked over at me. "I'm alright."

I raised an eyebrow skeptically at him. "Big tough guy wouldn't tell me if you were hurtin' anyway."

"You're right. It's a rule."

"Is that before or after the leaving up the toilet lid and the never asking for directions rules?"

He shot me a 'look'. "Right after the beware of saucy, smart-assed women rule."

"Really. And what are you supposed to do if you should ever come across one of those types of women?" I asked innocently.

He smiled slowly. "The saying goes, you either run like hell or you -"

Suddenly there was clanging in my head, and it felt like my skull was splitting in two. I was nauseous and dizzy and I saw a very fuzzy Dean reach for me and then everything went black.

...The usual nightmare vision ran its course until the original creature handed me over to four of its buddies. I was paralyzed and screaming on the inside as they shoved 40 sharp talons into me; the pain nearly taking my breath away. I could feel tingling inside as they removed their claws, and the tingling quickly escalated into a physical buzzing as they lowered their faces to my body and licked it clean of the dark red blood pooling over the holes. At my feet, six more creatures were drooling and staring intently at me with red glowing eyes, obviously relishing the thought of having their turn. The buzzing inside me had grown to an earthquake, approximately 10.0 on the Richter scale and I was sure my various organs were being scrambled into a huge omelet at this point. The light around me grew brighter somehow and then two of the animals were knocked away. There was a pause and the two on the other side went flying, grunting and snarling in pain. I wasn't able to move my head, only my eyes, and -

Dean was standing over me, holding my hand with his left one and a book with his right. He was reading aloud in the ancient language when he saw my head turn and dropped the book, kneeling down beside the bed. "You're back! It took me so long, I couldn't find the book - "

"What the hell just happened?" I interrupted him. I tried to sit up and parts of me seemed to be lit on fire. I fell back into the softness of the bed and let out a long moan.

His gaze swept down my body and he winced, immediately rising and walking quickly to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel. "Your first 'awake' vision just happened. How's your head feel?"

"Fantastic. If you like cheap tequila morning-afters."

"Ooh. I've had that morning," He commiserated with me, lying the cold wet towel over the bare skin of my chest and stomach.

It felt wonderful. "The rest of me is on fire. Why? Why is the rest of me on fire?" I was growing panicky now and tried to sit up again. Bad move. "What happened!! Tell me!!"

"Hey! Take it easy." He sat on the bed beside me. "You passed out and had the vision again. About the time your shirt tore off all by itself I decided trying a protection spell couldn't hurt anything. So I found the book I needed and began the incantation and then you woke up. Unfortunately, you were already bleeding." He looked down at my chest.

I looked too, and shoved the towel to the side. "Holy crap. I'm – I'm -" I was a bloody mess. The towel had smeared it in places but I could swear I saw tongue prints in the blood. I remembered the four things licking me and my not being able to move or stop it. Their tongues had felt sickening and I thought I might throw up. "There's tongue prints!" I looked up at Dean, wailing.

He stood up, raising his hands in innocence. "I didn't touch you, I swear! No hands, no tongue, no nothin'!"

"Not _YOU_! The things!! They were licking me!" I was without a doubt, one hundred percent, officially wigging. This was not my style and I didn't like it at all.

I took a deep breath. "You have to help me get this off! They were licking me and it was disgusting and I can't handle it at ALL!!" My voice rose throughout and nope, I didn't have it under control. All I wanted to do was hose myself off and feel clean.

He stared at me, a bewildered look on his face. "What do want me to do?"

I sat up, finding the pain inside had receded a tiny bit. Thank God. "I have to get it off! Just help me into the bathroom! Please!"

He raised one eyebrow then gave me a 'well, if you insist' look. "Come on, then." He reached down and basically picked me up, showing little effort.

"I can probably walk. Your stitches..." I held on to him tightly as he lowered my feet, and we made our way slowly into the bathroom and across to the tub. I pulled off my tattered tank top and dropped it to the floor as he bent to turn the faucets on. "I'm not sure if I can get in by myself. I'm kinda shaky." I looked at him apologetically. Where I had previously been on fire, I was now freezing.

He stood up and turned to me with a sigh noting my lack of a shirt and very cold nipples. "You're killin' me here."

"I'm sorry." I began shaking violently from my inner deep freeze. "B – But it's not my f-fault. I didn't ask f-for this sh-shit."

"I know." He watched me shake for a second and then stepped into the rapidly filling tub with his jeans on. "Come here." He held out his hand.

I took it and he pulled me to him, once again picking me up, then letting my feet down again in the tub. He stepped out and sat on the side looking toward the door as I slid off my pajama pants, sprayed the blood off of myself with the hand held shower and thawed out under the hot water for a few minutes. The pain inside was retreating. I grabbed the soap and tried to scrub the memory of those creatures off of myself, and then quickly rinsed out my hair. I grabbed a towel hanging next to the tub, dried my hair and myself off, then wrapped it around, wearing it like a dress. "Okay, I'm done. You need a shower again? I smeared you."

"Cold one wouldn't hurt."

I handed him the washcloth and he wiped my blood off his chest. "Need help out?"

"Yes, please." I probably didn't, but I wanted it anyway.

He swung me up into his arms again and I laid my head on his shoulder, feeling worn out and spent. I let him carry me back to the bed and kissed his cheek as he laid me down. "Thank you. You're my hero."

A look of pleased embarrassment swept quickly across his features and was gone. If I hadn't been watching his reaction closely I'd have missed it. A wealth of insight hit me regarding this man. I must remember to analyze insight later.

"Just helping a girl into the shower. Happens all the time, you know." He grinned at me, all Cocky Dean again.

I watched him, a serious look on my face. "Help with the shower was very sweet, but I was talking about the protection spell, too. You made the monsters go away for me."

His smile faltered. "Did I? We don't know that for sure, do we?" He sat beside me on the bed. "What do you remember?"

"Pain." I shuddered involuntarily. "Licking. A lot of light...the things went flying off of me...and then it was over."

"The light? You saw it too?"

"Yeah. _You_ saw it?"

"Hell yes! It was coming out of you!" He pointed to one of the small holes in my chest.

"What?! I couldn't see where it was coming from...I'm paralyzed in the vision – I can only move my eyes around!" Christ. Now the bastards were making me a glow-in-the-dark pincushion. "What next? I turn into a frakkin' butterfly with laser beam antennae?" I sat up, irate at this new indignity the creatures were laying on me. "I'm tired of being snack central for these things..." My disgust leveled off as I caught the look Dean was giving my chest as my towel fell off. "C'mon, man, you've seen them before." I looked down, wondering if they'd magically grown a cup size or two, and had to put a hand down to steady myself. My torturers had left a very complex, intricate design on my body, made up of the small red holes left by their talons. I flopped back on the bed, not sure how to feel about this new development.

Dean was still staring, head cocked to one side as he sat next to me. He reached for my towel slowly. "Sorry. I'm just gonna move this... to see it all." He pushed it down with one hand, then crawled onto the bed, one knee on each side of my hips to better see the design. He sat back on my legs and finished pulling the towel down to my hips, warm fingers brushing my skin in the process. "I've never seen anything like it..."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"The pattern. It's like, not a pentagram, but more of a... I don't know." He gently traced a finger across an area of it on my stomach. "Does that hurt?" Soft voice. Soft eyes.

"No." The pain was gone. I was quickly becoming hot, though, and I wasn't talking about temperature this time. It was quiet for a minute or two. "Dean?"

He raised his eyes to mine.

"Should we look in the books?"

"Books?"

Whatever he'd been thinking, it hadn't included researching my new tattoo. "For the design?"

"Oh. That... No. We'll send Sam a picture of it." He reluctantly moved off of me and bent to pull up my towel. His hand hovered over it for a second, then he pulled it away and grabbed one of his folders off the nightstand, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and a pencil.

I grabbed my phone and handed it to him. "Just take a picture. We can put something over my ta-ta's – maybe coasters would work. I don't care."

"_What?!_ I am not sending my little brother a naked picture of you and strategically placed coasters! Period." He sketched the design, staring intently at my body occasionally then transferring the detail to the paper. He took one last long look, nodded in satisfaction, then used my phone camera to photograph the paper.

I pulled up the towel and turned on my side to watch as he buttoned on a shirt, and then struggled with his boots.

"I can go."

He flicked his eyes toward me for a second then went back to his struggle. "You're naked."

"I think I can get dressed faster than you." I laughed.

"I think you should stay naked."

I had no witty retort to that.

"Just take it easy. I'll be right back." He dropped my phone into his pocket, grabbed his jacket and loaded up weapons. At the door he stopped to flash me a small smile, then he was gone.

I took off the towel and crawled under the warm bedding. All right then. I had a few minutes to over think just exactly why he thought I should stay naked. Perhaps he planned to start a nudist's colony? Possibly. Portrait painting? Doubtful. Because my getting dressed might be painful and he was worried about me? Probably. Best not to think of the other reason right now. Since I'd laid my cards on the table, S-E-X would now be wrapped up in a cloak of some sort of relationship, which would smother it with _SCARY_. Hadn't I just told myself it was best not to think about that? La la la lala lalala. Next subject. He was being very sweet. The fact that he'd tried a protection spell was overwhelming. The chances of it actually working were slim – hell, I'd never heard of anyone trying it on someone having a vision. Visions just happened. You tried to learn from them, not stop them.

After a while the door rattled and I grabbed my gun off the nightstand. I lowered it as Dean came through the door, shrugging off his coat and weapons. "That was fast."

"Yeah. It's cold out there." He came to the bed, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Would the fact that I'm naked under the covers have anything to do with your quick trip?" I could not stop my mouth. It was running on it's own volition. I took both of his hands in mine and rubbed them to help him get warm.

If he was surprised by my question he didn't show it. A slow smile spread across his face. "It may have crossed my mind once or twice along the way."


End file.
